


Beautiful and Terrible as the Morning and the Night

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Leia Organa, Dark Luke, Extra Treat, Incest, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: The Emperor has plans for Vader's twins. They have plans of their own.





	Beautiful and Terrible as the Morning and the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



The girl is more powerful. Vader has observed this many times. The boy is more driven to please, and this makes Luke more interesting to the Emperor. "Accelerate his training," his Master commands, and Vader obeys. He sets the twins to a punishing schedule of exercise, and when he is away serving his Master's bidding on other errands, he hands their instruction over to the Grand Inquisitor.

"Do not disappoint me," Vader tells the gaunt creature, but his words exhort the children as much as their temporary teacher. No, not children. Not any more.

Leia has her mother's face. More, she has Padmé's spirit, and Luke has the same. This haunts Vader, watching them in their daily spar, red blades flashing as fast as eyes can flicker, the easy flow of the dark power they command bursting with every movement each makes. They are weapons, and they have never known another life, but in quick, bright bursts of thought, either speaks and their mother's words hang in the air. It is awful to contemplate. Were she alive to see them, she would weep.

Her death was clean, at least. He can't say the same for the fools who thought to hide his children from him.

Luke is the Emperor's favorite, and already he commands a battallion. The Moffs treat him with carefully-veiled disdain, seeing only a boy of nineteen raised to a crazed, dead cult. No matter how many cells of this weak Rebellion he and his stormtroopers cut down, the military find him as odd a relic as Vader, although most live in too much fear of the Emperor's dark Hand to say so aloud. Vader takes pride in his son's accomplishments, and he practices patience until he can watch with that same pride when Luke chokes the life out of each smirking face that doubts him.

"You have done well, young Skywalker," Vader tells him, intentionally in front of his detractors.

"Thank you, Lord Vader. It is my honor to serve the Empire." Luke's eyes are steady, and only the two of them understand the glimmer of humor in his voice. Neither of the twins calls him 'Father' except in the strictest privacy. No one knows they are his offspring.

Leia crackles with the Force, channeling her natural anger into a flame so thick Vader can feel the scorch as it passes him by. His Master wants her to be trained beside her brother, but his plans for her are less clear. "She could take on an ambassadorial role," Vader has suggested many times, knowing Leia's beauty will provide a prettier image of galactic rule for the masses to swallow. Her lightsaber can take for them what her words cannot. His Master will not commit to this but neither has he disagreed.

"They will give in to our demands," Leia says, after closing the line on another transmission to the shreds of the Imperial Senate. "Or they will be destroyed."

"I would be glad to send you personally," Vader tells her, and they both know he would.

The Emperor's mind is a smooth ball, impenetrable to any probe, including that of his apprentice, yet words leak out from time to time. The boy is malleable, the girl is not. He wants Luke to serve his will. He will keep Leia for his breeding program, as he has done with the few Force sensitives taken alive by the Inquisitorius. Whether his Master knows Vader has picked up these thoughts and is testing him, or is unaware of the breach, Vader cannot speculate.

He has spent the twins' entire lifetime in thrall to the Emperor, in turns awed by his power and in fear of the same. His Master does not know every possible detail of the galaxy's spin yet Vader cannot think of a time when he has not known well in advance of anything important: the would-be defection of this Admiral, the hidden cadre of Rebels near the Gordian Reach. His omniscience is not universal but it is far-reaching.

He must know about this. Surely he knows. Vader returns to his home, the dark castle on the fiery world where his life changed forever, and he knows before his shuttle lands that the children are here. He finds them in their room, the bedroom they have shared since infancy. Already they are wrapped within each other.

Leia's moans fill the room, Luke thrusting into her so hard he might break her, but he would know if she was hurt, would feel it as deeply. Her cries are filled with need. They do not slow as Vader enters the room. Sometimes all he does is find the chair beside the large bed, watching them hungrily through his lenses, remembering. Long years have passed since his body could take this pleasure, too many of the nerves forever burnt away by the same red hell outside the large window that casts a crimson glow into the room. His suit contains a permanent catheter, and even the digits of his fingers were replaced years ago by metal. But. He. Remembers.

Memory drives him to their side. Leia's smile as she sees him come closer is the same smile her mother once gave him as they made their way in delicious secrecy to her bed. Vader can't lean in to kiss her, not and live, but he can watch as Luke leans in for him, and he can recall the tingle of lips crushed to his. He can run his gloved hands down the broad expanse of Luke's muscled back, wishing he could feel the hot skin. His hands have roamed every inch of Luke's body, teasing him or driving him to distraction, or slapping his tight buttocks as Luke groans, rutting against his own sheets, but Vader has never felt any of it.

He strokes Leia's face now, then reaches to caress one breast. On other nights, Luke's mouth will be buried between her thighs, and Vader's false, strong fingers will work themselves into both tight entrances until she screams. Leia loves those nights. Luke loves any night Leia is happy, whether she's ordering him like a dog, or riding him while Vader slides her thickest black toy slowly into his son.

Leia's mental gifts are stronger. She opens her mind to him, letting him feel the thick, deep thrusts inside her and right against the nerve bundle up and in, the one she teases herself with angled toys. Luke can feel what she does, can find the places inside her body she wants, and he is much better than a toy because he loves her beyond all hope. When she kills the Emperor and assumes his place, she will keep Luke by her side as the Empress's Hand, doling out her justice to the galaxy, and when he returns to her each time when his work is finished, she will take him as her consort. Vader sees all this in a flash. Her plans. Her intentions. Not hidden from him, not now.

Vader could have her executed for this.

He's so proud.

"Join me," she says, her body undulating in the way they both know will push Luke over the edge. Leia holds on, riding the very edge of her own orgasm, her eyes locked on Vader's blank mask.

"Father," she gasps. "Please."

Vader sinks his mind into hers, revelling in the same pleasures, pledging the ruins of his soul to her. Leia comes like a beam of dark light inside his brain, branding him to her possession as she has already marked her brother. Vader's body is beyond physical release but Anakin's mind remembers, and if he could spoil his suit, he'd fill it thickly now, his respirator choking his daughter's name.


End file.
